Lose Your Mind
by Sir Gawaine
Summary: 'Loosen up and lose your mind/You never know what you might find on the other side'. What could have happened at Havensworth. Fifth in the Harry, Ruth, Kodaline series.


**A/N – This is the fifth in the 'Harry + Ruth + Kodaline' series and to be honest, I am not happy with it. I don't think I ever will be but there you go. I wanted to keep the story to canon but this song and one other just wouldn't conform. So this happened instead. I suck at writing this sort of thing but I had to get it out of the way so I could move on to safer ground. That being said, I hope you don't hate it completely :)**

_**Loosen up and lose your mind,  
You never know what you might find on the other side.**_

"Ruth -"

_Damn him. Damn him and that little catch in his voice as he said her name. Damn him, damn him, damn him._

Ruth turned before she got back to the door of her room, back to the safety of her sanctuary. She turned and saw him still standing there, a look on his face that she could not bear being responsible for. Holding her breath, she walked back to him and raised her eyebrows. He wanted to talk. She would let him talk.

"Ruth," he said again, "Come and have a drink with me. Please."

She hesitated and then nodded, slowly. He didn't say another word, just turned and led her into his room. She took a seat on the sofa and watched as he poured two drinks. Whisky, of course. She didn't think he ever drank anything else. He came and sat beside her, keeping a respectable distance. She curled her legs under herself and settled back; she was comfortable with him, strangely enough. They were in an impossible situation but it was still Harry. He was still the same person. Seeing her relax, he seemed to let out a breath and settled back too, one arm resting along the back of the sofa as he turned to look at her.

"Ruth, I'm sorry if anyone has made you feel uncomfortable about –"

She could see it on his face, he wanted to say 'about us', but he did not know if he was allowed to call it that. His hesitation moved her. He was trying so hard to understand something he did not understand. He was trying so hard for her and all she was doing was running before he had the chance to see that she at least noticed his efforts.

Before she could stop herself, she had reached out and taken his hand, the one on the back of the sofa. It was warm and solid and the skin on his fingertips was rough. She ran her own finger absently over his thumb, noticing that his eyes were riveted on their hands and that he was holding his breath.

"Harry," she said softly, bringing him back into the room with a start, "Harry, I'm not uncomfortable about – us. I'm uncomfortable with the idea of being talked about."

He tensed and she felt the muscle twitch on the back of his hand. This was what he didn't understand, she knew. He did not understand why it should matter to her. He didn't say a thing though, just looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to continue.

_Damn him. He's going to make me say it._

"If there was a way – if there was a way that we could – Harry, I want to. I just can't be talked about. I won't be."

She forced herself to look him in the face, telling herself that it was the least she could do when she was ripping out his heart. His eyes were so beautiful that sometimes it hurt to look at them and, right now, the half-light in the room lit the hazel colour on fire. Harry often tried to hide what he was feeling, a necessity of his job and the way he lived his life, but he could never school those eyes. She could always tell what was really going on in his mind. Right now, he was making no effort to hide and she felt naked, like he was staring right through her. The pain she saw made him look so vulnerable, so unlike himself, that she felt a sudden urge to kiss it away.

_To kiss him and throw caution to the wind, just once. Would it be so very bad?_

"Ruth-"

His voice broke on her name and it was the last straw. She would not be responsible for this. She would not be the reason that he sounded like that. She could not be the reason. His head was hanging, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw tight. This wasn't Harry. She was doing this to him.

Dropping his hand, she stood up and went to stand in front of him. He lifted his head and looked at her, his brow creased with confusion. She put her hands on either side of his head and moved her thumbs gently over his forehead, smoothing away the pain, helping him to relax. Her thumbs moved down to his eyes and she closed them obligingly as she traced over his eyelids and down his nose, her thumbs coming to rest on his lips. She knelt in front of him and waited for him to open his eyes again. The pain was gone, thank goodness, but the confusion was still there.

She did not wait for her mind to change. This time, this was for her.

She kissed him, surprised at her own boldness even as she encouraged him to kiss her back, running her hands down his neck, over his shoulders, letting them come to rest in the small of his back. She had moved closer and now he finally seemed to have come out of his trance, because his own arms wrapped around her and he pulled her even closer. He allowed her the lead in the kiss, following obligingly when she coaxed his mouth open and ran her tongue over his bottom lip. Her heart twinged; even now, even now she was giving him what he wanted, he was only allowing himself to take as much as she was willing to offer.

She broke the kiss and he leaned back, lust and disappointment playing for prominence on his face, but then his eyes widened when she took his hand and pulled him towards the bed. They climbed on, both suddenly a little shy, and she took his face in her hands again.

"I can't promise more than this, right here and right now. You know that, don't you?"

His answer was to kiss her again and, she supposed, that would have to do for now. They moved carefully, she nervous and he cautious, but soon enough they found a rhythm that made Ruth think she had been stupid to ever think that they could be apart. Harry's hands were gentle and clever and she felt as though she was the only thing that mattered to him, the only thing that would ever matter.

She could not allow herself to be made entirely vulnerable, not without taking him with her, and she delighted in finding that when Harry was turned on, his voice turned to a low rumble, almost a growl. When she slid her hand into his boxers and grasped him for the first time, he growled and she thought it was the sexiest thing she had ever heard.

As revenge, he worked her to a slow and gentle climax, one that was almost reverential in the way that he watched her face and followed her expressions. Reverence. She had never had reverence from a lover before. She did not quite believe, even now, that she deserved it and when he finally moved over her, ready to take them to the next stage, she could see it in his eyes too.

Harry tried to take it slowly - she could feel his muscles twitching from the strain – and she pressed her lips to his ear and murmured, "Don't hold back. Not now."

It was all the encouragement he needed and when he reached his own climax, she could see tears shining in his eyes.

"Oh Ruth," he murmured, collapsing next to her and burying his face in her neck. She reached up and stroked his hair, listening to him breath and feeling the spasms as his muscles loosened. When he fell asleep beside her, she did not have the heart to leave him.

Not now. She couldn't leave him now. There would be time enough for that later.


End file.
